


Boy And The Ghost

by Nevermore9



Category: Gravity Falls, ParaNorman (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:38:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3062990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermore9/pseuds/Nevermore9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper Pines has a tragic accident while pursuing a mysterious figure and goes missing, until a certain medium arrives in Gravity Falls and begins to communicate with the deceased boy. Will Norman be able to help Dipper regain his body, all while a white haired psychic and cosmic demon work against them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boy And The Ghost

The rain came down heavy. Drop after drop assaulted the window pane in thick spurts, to the point that little was visible through the thick shower and darkening sky blanketed in angry gray clouds. Dipper Pines was blankly staring out -or rather at- the glass of the window, his attention completely absorbed in specific drops of rain that battered down on the glass and exploded in rippling waves that rolled down the foggy pane and slowly dripped out of view.  
Dipper pressed a pale warm finger down over a fleeting rain drop as if to stop it. The frigid glass gave him a chilled touch causing his finger to stumble, and the water droplet passed through it without changing its course. The corners of Dipper's mouth contorted into a disappointed frown as if he was expecting something to happen. Dipper let his finger fall back down onto the window sill in defeat, where he tapped in rhythm to the steady falls of rain on the exterior of the shack.  
Still keeping his eyes locked on the glass, a blurred silhouette flashed behind a thick wooden truck, barely seen through the rain shielded window and almost missed if he had not caught it out of his periphery. Just as quickly as he had spotted the form, in an eye blink disappeared into the pine trees. Dipper tensed as he spotted the figure, his body lurched forward in his chair. _Who would be taking a leisurely stroll into the woods, in pouring rain and pitch darkness?_ _No one would, no one human anyway_. The thought of the supernatural excited Dipper, his heart began to race with enthusiasm and suddenly he leaped from his chair and ran to his makeshift bedroom in the attic. Hurriedly he rifled through the clutter of his side of the room, in too big a rush to take note of, his sister, Mabel's cleaner half. Faster than he had anticipated Dipper pocketed his journal safely in his jacket, had grabbed an extendable umbrela, clutched a small flashlight, and placed his signature hat over his messy brown head of hair. Frantically Dipper bolted down the stairs, now equipped in his "field gear", and flung the door open, dashing out into the rainy mist pursuing the mystery silhouette.  
The stillness of the forest carried an air of eeriness with it. The wood was devoid of all signs of life, the only audible sound was that of the constant pitter-patter of rain on Dipper's umbrela. A splash of muddy water sprayed itself onto Dipper's lower leg as his sneaker squished down into a murky puddle; dirtying his clean white socks and seeping down the bare skin of his shin, causing him to flash a disgusted grimace. Dipper proceeded, trying not to pay any mind to the sickeningly moist and icy feel of his socks.  
The single cry of some distant animal pierced the dead air. Dipper's spine crawled at the feral howl and he bounced the ray of flashlight across the surrounding brush. He moved the beam around every twisted branch, shined it into every forlorn hollow, used it as a beacon to combat the darkness in ragged bushes and behind withered tree trunks. The flashlight made sure to illuminate every wicked curve and malevolent face of each pine, shrub, weed, blade of grass, anything Dipper could make out in the stygian wood. Being careful to pick apart the darkness in hope -or rather fear- that the light would fall upon the blur of a form that Dipper was pursuing. Though there was a nagging thought creeping into Dipper's skull, that maybe the shadowy figure would fall upon him first.  _Your just being paranoid._  
**CRACK!**  
He heard the thud of his flashlight hit the ground. His clothing quickly became soaked through, clinging to his now slippery skin, as his umbrela fell from his grasp. Dipper's thin frame went stiff, the hair on his body stood on end, he couldn't speak nor move; then he realized he was being pulled aback. Mustering all the strength and courage that he could on short-hand, Dipper lept forward. He teetered slowly ahead at first, his body rolled onward then backward with an aching creak, something behind him was preventing his movement. With his eyes tightly shut, he forcefully leaned further, trying to propell himself out of his captor's grasp. With a strained groan Dipper could feel himself arching little by little, his heels dug into the mud, he felt the open air around him and the absence of solid ground. Then with a **SNAP!** he fell, his foot caught on a stump hunched out of the ground.  
His body surged upward with heavy force as the stump clung to his foot, refusing to let go, twisting his ankle until he heard a gut wrenching crunch. His heart skipped a beat and his breath faltered, coming out ragged and stilted as his person continued its decent. Dipper hardly noticed when he hit the ground. He bounced then went limp, the back of his head overcome with a numbing sensation. His ears rung grimly, and his eyes were blurred so that he could only stare up and gaze at the clouds rolling overhead, pouring rain down through the pine needles and splashing over his pale face, seeping into his eyes, his mouth, bleeding into his clothing and filling his pores. Dipper lay still, he wondered if he could even move. With slight difficulty he brought his hand up to his eyelevel and managed to flex his fingers. His legs though he couldn't feel even remotely and his paranoia asked if they were even still there.  
Dipper craned his neck reluctant to survey the damage, to his extreme relief he saw both of his legs were in fact intact, but he couldn't tell if they were broken or not. He let his head fall back onto the cold ground, hardly even feeling the chilling air that snaked up his body. Dipper strained his vocal chords trying to shout, call out to Grunkle Stan, to anyone; all that came out was a muffled whimper. He layed there in defeat, in sorrow, in submission to the elements, without the true gravity of his situation settling on him yet. His mind turned to thoughts Mabel, when he got back she'd say he was a complete idiot for running out after some shadow and breaking his leg. Did he break his leg? It didn't feel broken, it didn't really feel like anything. If he did Stan would probably have Soos try and fix it, he hated doctors. The mental image caused Dipper to want to internally chuckle, but his mind was growing increasingly clouded. He felt light as a feather, in fact he didn't feel much at all; his body went numb, his brain went numb. It felt as if his skull was splitting open one instant and then his head went all fuzzy the next. Opening his eyes Dipper realized he couldn't see anything besides perpetual darkness, then Dipper couldn't realize anything.  
***  
Norman Babcock gazed dreamily out the old grainy window. His mind lost in several daydreams until a stray sunbeam glared in his eyes causing him to blink himself back into reality. Norman darted his eyes around the old country style motel room, slightly disappointed he was still in Gravity Falls, Oregon and not Blithe Hollow, Massachusetts; but he didn't really expect much else. Norman wasn't exactly enjoying his "little vacation" so far. He didn't like travelling, so going for a "summer getaway" with his mother and reluctant father, while his sister stayed back home with her girlfriends, wasn't his cup of tea.  
"Norman." His mother's voice chimed in. "It's a beautiful sunny day outside, and your sitting inside just watching it go by." She leaned in, wrapping a loving arm around his shoulder. "I known it's a change of scenery, but you should try to enjoy this vacation while it lasts. I'm sure a clever kid like you could find something to pass the time in this sleepy old town; and if not..." she paused for a brief second, letting her previous words sink in and emphasizing her upcoming ones "just _**relax.**_ " She patted his head tenderly and left alongside his father and two backpacks, telling him that they were taking the afternoon hike and would be back around four o'clock.  
Shortly after his parents departure Norman decided to revel in the quiet and dig up a weighty novel bound in a red leathery cover from his suitcase. He plopped down on the edge of the motel bed, his fingers were just cracking open the book to a previously marked page and his left shoe was carefully manuevering his right sneaker to slide off the heel of his foot.  
"House Keeping!" The words shot through Norman's ears, causing him to shoot up with an irritated expression, at the foiling of his plans. Leaving his treasured peace and quiet Norman shuffled himself to the door and creaked it open; revealing a fairly rounded young man with a heavy frame, appearing to be in his early twenties and dressed in a questionmark themed T-shirt and cap, with an employee name tag pinned on. The title of the motel was clearly visible but the name on the tag however was not.  
"Sorry Dude, but I kinda have to tidy this room. Not that it's dirty or anything, just...well I haven't changed any of the bedsheets or towels out in weeks, Man." Norman's face contorted in disgust, he was thankful that the man had come and alerted him of this before he actually slept in the motel bed but at the same time he was irked by the employee's incompitence.  
"Also," the man went on "someone keeps stealing all those little shampoo bottles from the shower, Dude." The employee chuckled slightly and looked down at Norman like a puppy, expecting admittance into the room. Hesitantly Norman waved the employee into the motel room, saying goodbye to anymore sense of silence. The man burst through the doorway with a full cart of various cleaning materials, he pushed the cart past Norman and centered it in the middle of the room; his eyes darted excitedly around the cabin, wondering where to start first.  
Norman was already creeping out the motel room door when a cheerful "Thanks, Dude" caught his ear. He turned and forced a smile to the beaming employee who seemed all to eager to get to work, unsettlingly so.  
***  
Seeing no other option, Norman ventured outside the gloomy motel, deciding he'd rather have his eyes blinded by the sun rather than his patience destroyed waiting around the dilapidated lobby for however long. The cool June air blew up against his skin as Notman ventured into the daylight, squinting his eyes to shield them from the assaulting sun. Despite the heat of the large fireball in the sky, it still felt cooling outside, and Norman clutched his sleeves with a passing shiver.  
The small remote town of Gravity Falls seemed especially dead today, hardly a soul walked the streets, living and dead included. Norman walked in a straight line down the road unsure of his destination, he blandly took note of the various small shops and stores as he walked, though most didn't appear open. Norman wondered if the town was always so lifeless, it was a welcome contrast from the motel, prrhaps he could get used to this place after all. He always did like the quiet, away from the living and the dead, and besides the single aimlessly wandering weary soul of some westward settler, who probably perished on the once Oregon Trail, the town seemed short on spirits.  
A heavy gust suddenly overtook Norman, blowing past him with ease and ruffling his hair. Norman trembled under the icy wind, drawing his clothing close to his skin for warmth and readjusting his spikey hair. As he straightened out his hair Norman caught something in the corner of his eye, dancing in the wind, noticable from the trace of scribbled writing on it. He turned to get a better glimpse as it blew toward him and eventually found itself blown under Norman's halting foot.  
Norman carefully gripped the weather beaten scrap and curiously lifted it to eye level. The top of the paper read " _GNOMES_ " and featured an illustration of a small bearded humanoid with a pointed hat. Norman came to the conclusion that this must be a page of a larger book, as the handwriting trailed off at the bottom of the paper, leaving a halfwritten word. Though why a random page of some fairytale book would be floating around seperate from its larger body Norman couldn't be certain. Carefully folding the page, Norman stuffed it in his pocket, another gust of wind rose up around him and he examined his surroundings encase any more stray pages were to blow his way.  
Norman continued further down the road, keeping his eyes peeled, surveying for any more pages similar to the one in his pocket; though he didn't go out of his way to search, he just mainly stayed to the road and if something were to turn up then that would be fortunate. As he came to what appeared to be the edge of town Norman halted, further ahead the paved road turned to bits and pieces of gravel and the thick pine trees grew more plentiful and more foreboding. He decided it was best to turn back for now, maybe he would come back and search for any clues as to the pages origins, he didn't have anything else to do anyways; but then again he might not, it was just one page to some child's book afterall.  
Norman turned making his way back to the motel, he figured that in the time it took him to walk out here, he guessed twenty minuetes or so, and the time it would take him to walk back then the house keeping should be finished by then.  
The more Norman walked the faster his pace quickened. He was growing impatient with the distance and his eyes sore of every green caniferous tree looking exactly the same. As Norman had increased his pace he began to fatigue quite quickly and feel the effects of exhaustion. He wasn't exactly the fittest boy his age, despite his skinny frame, and he began to sweat under the beating sun. As he continued down the trail, his breath growing more and more heavy, almost by coincidence Norman spotted a small bench shortly ahead. He thought it strange he had not noticed it before on his way up, but perhaps this time his subconcious had been looking for it, without the occupation of searching for floating leaflets.  
Happily seating himself down on the quaint wooden bench, something made Norman pull out the earlier discovered page from his pocket. Now that he had some breathing time he wanted to examine it in more detail, he had planned to observe it back at his room but apparently he had a low patience. He felt his breath coming back to him as Norman ran his fingers along of the edge of the paper, there seemed to be two seperate forms of handwriting on the page, though with the weathered condition it was hard to tell.  
"I can sense your not from around here, friend."  
Norman pratically lept out of his skin at the suddenness of the younger sounding voice adjacent to himself. He knocked himself back against the hard wood of the bench's side, hitting his head and envoking a sharp cry of pain from his throat.  
Rubbing his head in an attempt to soothe the pain in his skull, Norman turned his attention to the smaller, shadow cloaked, figure at the further end of the bench. Similar to his lack of noticing the bench on his initial voyage down the road, Norman found it perplexing that he hadn't sensed the presence of another person, sitting right next to him. Again he blamed his ignorant eyesight on mental distraction.  
"Did I startle ya, Hun?" The voice came again, young and sweet with a southern tang to it.  
Norman composed himself, sitting upright on the bench and managing a meek "Ya."  
"Well, I apawlogize." The gentle tone replied, sounding positively adorable in its youthful age and country spice. "It seems I'ma right though. You Sir are most definitely not from Gravity Falls, else ya wouldn't be talkin ta w'ittle ol' me."  
"Why not?"  
"I have a, certain reputation round 'ere, let's just'a leave it there. But anywho I am, curious as'ta why a handsum boy like ya'self would be up 'ere in Nowhere Falls."  
"Just...just a vacation." Norman stuttered out softly.  
"Vacation from what? I wonder." The younger boy muttered to himself.  
"What'd ya say ya name was agin, Puddin?"  
"Norman."  
The other leaned in towards Norman, out of the silhouette cast by the overhanging leafy branches. The preciously sweet voice now clearly had a plump, freckled pale face, with large silvery white hair and a short rounded body dressed in a formal sky blue suit. "Name's Gideon." He said extending a short stubby hand.  
Norman returned the gesture, meeting the boy's hand and lightly shakening it with a warm and somewhat forced smile. Gideon flashed a returning grin and held Norman's hand in a firm business-like grip. Norman kept his smile for a few more seconds as Gideon extended the handshake just long enough as to make it awkward then released Norman's small fragile hand from his solid and slightly sticky grasp.  
"So than, Nor..." Gideon cut himself off mid-sentence, something of a muffled gasp escaped his mouth as his eyes turned predatory, narrowing in on the sheet of paper still clutched in Norman's hand. "Wh-where'd ya, how'd ya git that?" He stammered, seemingly dumbfounded at the scrap of paper.  
"This old scrap? I just found it." Norman stated blandly, finding it odd that the boy would be so invested in the beaten page.  
" **Where'd**  ya find it?!" Gideon questioned, his tone grew intensely serious and with each word he grew closer to Norman, emphasizing his severity, but to Norman it just made him feel uncomfortable.  
"Over there." Norman replied, pointing back in the direction he had just come from.  
"Show me!" Gideon whispered, grasping Norman's shirt collar and pulling him closer so that his dark fiery eyes were glaring into Norman's cold blue ones.  
"Show you?" Norman questioned, surprised at the seriousness Gideon took in such silly things, while also trying to squirm out of the boy's stone hold. "Not right now, of course. Maybe tomorrow if you want." He continued, now wanting more than anything to get back to the motel.  
"But..." Gideon began, clenching his fist tight as his irritation grew, his face slowly contorting into something monstrous. However, seeing his new aquaintance's frightened look, Gideon managed to calm himself, taking a deep breath. Afterall he had waited this long, he could wait a little longer.  
"Vary well, Norman, t'morrow i' is. An 'ey, maybe I could show ya roun Gravity Falls, a tour o' sorts." Gideon gave a cutesy smile followed by a wink. His tone had once again softened to the expected pitch of a young boy his age.  
"I-I'd like that." Norman returned, showing off his best grin, coming off as more of a smirk, warm, but a little forced.  
"T'morrow than." Gideon repeated, keeping his toothy smile and adding a second little wink for good measure before hopping his tiny legs off the bench and strolling down the road. Norman stayed seated, a bit overwhelmed and a little confused as he watched the back of the pale blue suit and poofy silver hair disappear into the sun soaked horizon. Gideon hadn't even mention a meeting time or place, just tomorrow; and why was he even so interested in this page anyways? Norman supposed he would just have to wait until tomorrow. Afterall tomorrow was another day, and his second day in Gravity Falls.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if I butchered the accent on Gideon, I'll probably edit it soon.


End file.
